


we wrote the perfect story

by orphan_account



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Richie Tozier Needs a Hug, a whole lotta gay, but at least he's not dead, i just need a nap, pennywise's dum dum lookin' ass doesn't exist, stan is constantly fed up, there's kind of angst?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-01 18:59:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak had lived in Derry his whole life, and could say with one hundred percent certainty that he knew everything about the small town.He knew the streets, the people, the sights, and the smells.It was a strange town; one filled with unspoken evil and ever present clouds of mystery. Eddie wished more than anything to escape from this place and its gloomy, omnipresent shade, but he knew from a young age that he’d be hard-pressed to break free. Still, he’d hoped for a miracle, some sort of saving grace, to come and break him out of this dreary reality.His saving grace came when he was 16, in the form of a curly haired boy.





	1. brief flash of a glance

Eddie had always sat at the table in the far left of the cafeteria, squished between Mike and Bill. Today was no different.

He sat at their table, eating his peanut butter sandwich (no crust), laughing as Bill good-naturedly teased Beverly for her haircut gone wrong. She’d been aiming for a pixie cut, but had forgotten the way her hair curled, and now it looked like a bird’s nest, or a really horrible clown wig.

It was there, sitting in the cafeteria, that Eddie noticed him.

He was sitting alone in the corner of the cafeteria, as far away from where Eddie sat as possible in the small room. He wasn’t talking, and he wasn’t eating, though he had a tray of untouched food in front of him. He was looking out the window next to his seat, seemingly deep in thought, so it was safe to stare at him without fear of meeting an excessively interested pair of eyes. But it was none of these things that caught, and held, Eddie’s attention.

The boy was tall, Eddie could tell from the way his legs were stuffed under the table, and he had dark, curly hair that hung into his eyes. He wore chunky glasses, and a bright Hawaiian shirt that stood out in the bland colors of the school. He had dark eyes, with dark shadows under those eyes — purplish, bruise like shadows. Freckles decorated his cheeks in beautiful constellations.

But all that was not why Eddie couldn’t look away.

He stared because the boy’s face was inhumanly gorgeous. It was a face you’d expect to see on television, not in the claustrophobic cafeteria of Derry High.

Eddie was called back to earth by Beverly, who nudged his knee under the table.

“Richie Tozier. He’s cute, right?”

He glanced sideways at the beautiful boy, who was looking at his tray now, picking a sandwich to pieces with long, pale fingers.

“He’s very… nice-looking.” Eddie struggled to come up with an unquestionable statement.

Stan looked over his shoulder, squinting at the boy Beverly had pointed out. “He needs a haircut. And a new pair of glasses. Other than that, he's... eh?”

"You know, there's a reason no one asked for your opinion. You always 'eh' things." Bev took a sip of her milk before speaking to Eddie again. “He’s new. Just moved here from California, I think.”

“If he’s f-f-from C-california, why is he s-so pale?”

“I don’t know, Bill. Maybe he’s a vampire. Maybe he has one of those sun allergies. Maybe he's incredibly anemic.”

“S-s-sh-shut up, Stan. It w-was an honest q-q-question.”

"I was just giving honest answers."

"Oh, y-yeah, b-b-be-because him b-being a v-vuh-vampire is incredibly likely."

The two boys continued their banter as Eddie examined the boy again. This time, their eyes met, evident curiosity in the newcomers gaze. Eddie’s cheeks heated up, and he quickly stared down at his half eaten sandwich.

“That’s cute,” Bev giggled, having watched the previous interaction, “Little Eddie’s blushing because newbie caught him gawking.”

“Awh, Little Eddie’s blush is so cute!” Mike cooed, gently knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“D-d-does Little Eddie have a c-c-crush?”

Bev nodded, a faux serious expression gracing her features. “I think Little Eddie does.”

Eddie scowled. “Little Eddie is sitting right here, and he can assure you that he does _not_ have a crush!”

“Looks like Little Eddie is getting flustered.”

“Shut _up_ , Stan!”


	2. a motorcycle on a sunny day

The next couple of days were better… and worse.

They were better because the rain clouds that had been plaguing Derry for weeks finally cleared, leaving a brilliant blue sky in their trail. They were better because Mike had finally fixed his truck which meant that Eddie didn’t have to rely on his mother for a ride to school. They were better because Henry Bowers father had taken him out of school on a hunting trip.

They were worse because Eddie was tired; thoughts of the new boy kept him awake. They were worse because Mr. Victors had called on him in Trig multiple times when he didn’t know the answers. They were worse because in gym he got hit in the head with a tennis ball. They were worse because Richie Tozier wasn’t in school at all.

On Thursday, Eddie had gone into the cafeteria, looking forward to eyeing the newcomer, but was disappointed to find the table in the corner was empty.

The same thing happened on Friday.

Eddie sat at his table, trying to listen to the easy chatter of his friends, but he was nervously waiting for the moment Richie walked into the cafeteria.

He didn’t come, and as time passed Eddie grew more and more curious.

 _There’s probably a perfectly reasonable excuse for his absence_ Eddie thought to himself, trying to control his thudding heart.

When the school day was done, and the back-flips his heart had been doing were finally slowing down, he hurriedly stuffed his books into his locker to meet Mike out by his truck.

Today at lunch Bill had ordered a last minute sleepover at his place, and Mike was on snack duty. The last thing Eddie wanted to do was start his Friday night off in a grocery store, but seeing as Mike was his only ride, he didn’t really have a choice.

 

The MarketWay was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was a large store, compared to the others in Derry, and it wasn’t rare to run into friends and enemies alike.

The first thing that Eddie noticed upon arriving to the store was that the parking lot was unusually empty. Although, this was probably due to the beams of sunlight that were fading slowly. The second thing that Eddie noticed was the beat up motorcycle pulled up along the side of the supermarket. It puzzled him. No one in Derry owned a motorcycle. They were frowned upon.

“Alright, I’m heading in,” Mike turned the truck’s engine off, “any requests?”

“Um,” Eddie tore his eyes off the mystery vehicle, “just chocolate. Anything and everything chocolate.”

“Chocolate, got it.”

Mike left, giving Eddie supreme radio privileges, which was rare, but he was too distracted by the motorcycle to care. He was so caught up in staring at it, that he didn’t notice the figure approaching his window.

“Like something you see?”

Eddie jumped, startled from his thoughts by none other than Richie Tozier, who was carrying a grocery bag filled with soda and shitty, off-brand candy.

“N-no. I just didn’t-” _oh my god I don’t know how to speak_ , “I don’t know.”

“The motorcycle’s mine, if that’s what had you so transfixed.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I just figured that out.” Eddie gestured to the grocery bag he was holding, “That crap’ll give you diabetes.”

Richie chuckled. “Hey, I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

“I can see that.”

“Sounds like someone doesn’t approve of my life choices.”

“Nah, just your candy choices. The Twizzler wannabes you bought taste like shit.”

“Can’t taste worse than your mom’s- _mmrgph_ ,” Eddie had clapped a hand over Richie’s mouth.

“No. Please god, no mom jokes.”

Eddie removed his hand and Richie broke into a grin.

“What’s your name life judger?”

“Eddie.”

“Eds, what a cute name.”

“‘Eds’ isn’t my name. It’s just Eddie.”

“Okay, Just Eddie, I’m Richard.”

“Dick,” Eddie tried to mimic Richie’s deep voice, “what a cute name!”

Richie’s grin became wider, if that was even possible.

“You’re a feisty one, Eds. I like you.”

“Once again, that’s not my name.”


	3. giving up on trying to be good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in, like, twenty minutes, so I'm sorry if it's shit

Ben walked Eddie to Chemistry on Tuesday, leaving him at the doorway with a knowing smile when he saw Richie Tozier sitting at Eddie’s lab table.

Richie was staring at him curiously, that same, familiar edge of entertainment even more distinct now in his dark eyes.

Eddie stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into the smaller boy’s eyes. They only broke eye contact once Eddie sat down at the table. Both stared at the teacher, Mr. Banners, who was beginning his mono-tonal lecture.

Eddie looked down at his book as soon as the prodding eyes released him, trying to find his place. He couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through him— just because Richie happened to look at him for the first time in a few days. He

couldn't allow the newcomer to have this level of influence over him. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.

He tried very hard not to be aware of Richie for the rest of the hour, but that was far from possible. When the bell rang at last, Eddie turned his back to him to gather his things, expecting Richie to take the (not-so-subtle) hints Eddie had been dropping all class.

“Eddie Spaghetti?” The nickname made Eddie smile, and he was glad his back was turned so Richie couldn’t get that satisfaction.

Eddie turned slowly, willing his smile to drop to an annoyed grimace. “Are you speaking to me? I wasn’t sure, because ‘Eddie Spaghetti’ isn’t my name."

Richie’s lips twitched, fighting a smile. “Nah, I was just talking to the other Eddie Spaghetti right behind you.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes total sense.” Eddie slung his bag over his shoulder, gesturing to the doorway. “I guess I’ll just be leaving now.” 

“No, wait, I actually do need to tell you something.”

“Spit it out. I really don’t want to be late to my next class.”

Richie fidgeted, pushing glasses up his nose. “Well, for starters, I wanted to tell you what a beast your mom was in bed last night.”

Eddie closed his eyes and inhaled slowly through his nose, aware that he was gritting his teeth.

“And secondly, I just thought I should let you know that it’s better if we’re not friends.”

“What?” Eddie didn’t know whether to be shocked, confused, or hurt. A normal reaction would probably be a combination of all three.

“Trust me, Eds, it’ll be easier this way.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I barely even know you!”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. It was difficult for Eddie to believe that he hadn't just imagined what Richie had said, and the seriousness in his eyes when he said it.

So, he was impatient and nervous as he and Stan entered the cafeteria. He wanted to see Richie’s face, see if it was back to the shit-eating grin he usually wore, or if it was the same stony-faced mask he’s been previously wearing. 

Disappointment flooded through Eddie as his eyes unerringly focused on the table where Richie was usually seated. It was empty. Had he gone home? Was he just skipping lunch? Was he purchasing more cheap candy at the grocery store this period? Was he making up work elsewhere?

"Richie Tozier is staring at you," Beverly said, finally breaking through Eddie’s questioning thoughts with his name. "I wonder why he's sitting over there today."

Eddie’s head snapped up. He followed Bev’s gaze to see Richie, smiling crookedly, staring at him from an empty table across the cafeteria from where he usually sat. Once he'd caught Eddie’s eye, he raised one hand and motioned with his index finger for Eddie to join him. As he stared in disbelief, the curly haired fiend winked.

“He’s b-b-beckoning y-you over,” Bill said, amusement laced in his voice.

"Maybe he needs help with his Chemistry homework," Eddie muttered. 

Stan snorted. “Sure Eddie, I’m positive that’s why he’s winking at you.”

"Um, I'd better go see what he wants."

Eddie could hear the chuckles coming from his friends as he walked away.

When he reached his table, he stood behind the chair across from Richie, unsure of what came next.

"Why don't you sit with me today?" Richie asked, smiling.

Eddie sat down automatically, watching him with caution. The taller boy was still smiling. It was hard to believe that

someone so beautiful could be real. Eddie was afraid that he might disappear in a sudden puff of smoke, and he would wake up from this wonderful dream.

Richie seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

"This is different," Eddie finally managed.

"Well…" He paused, and then the rest of the words followed in a rush. "I decided as long as I was going to hell, I might as well fuck myself over thoroughly."

Eddie waited for him to say something that made sense. The seconds ticked by.

"You know I don't have any idea what you mean," he eventually pointed out.

"I know." Richie smiled again, and then he changed the subject. "I think your friends are wondering why I stole you."

Eddie could feel their stares boring into his back as he ‘mhm’d a response. 

Richie laughed. "You look worried. It’s adorable."

"I’m not worried," Eddie said, but, ridiculously, his voice broke. "Surprised, actually… what brought all this on?"

“I couldn’t stay away from your cute face, and I decided that if I was gonna be spending my nights in your mother’s bed, we should get to know each other.”

“So, in plain English, you’re taking back that whole ‘we can’t be friends’ thing you said less than three hours ago?”

“Yeah. That’s my plan, Spaghetti Man.” Richie’s breathtaking crooked grin reappeared. “Hey! I just rhymed!”

**Author's Note:**

> I ate ice cream cake even thought I'm lactose intolerant and now I think I'm dying.  
> rip.


End file.
